


He's not pathetic, he's pragmatic!

by millygal



Series: HC_BINGO [3]
Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: M/M, Revenge Sex, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 22:33:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11300202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millygal/pseuds/millygal
Summary: Chris Skelton is not, despite what most people think, stupid.





	He's not pathetic, he's pragmatic!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MistressKat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressKat/gifts).



> Fourth of my hc_bingo prompt fills. It's been a LONG time since I wrote any LoM and it took me a few passes to get into the right frame of mind and pov but I got there, I think. This is a gift for kat_lair and from her RarePairs Writer list :) Hope you enjoy BB! <3 I don't know that this is quite what you saw in that big ol' brain of yours, but you know me and my Muse O.o! Thank you jj1564 for all your hard work ♥ *mwah*

It starts the same way _every_ **time** and one day Chris might well say no, but for now, he’s going to take what he can get where he can get it.

That doesn’t make him pathetic, it makes him pragmatic.

Sam grips his dick and rubs the weeping tip along Chris’s lips before working his thumb between tightly clamped teeth and prying them apart. “Come on, Chris, you know you want it.”

There’ll come a time that Chris will spin on his heel and walk away, but the bulge in his trousers is begging to be dealt with and the thought of Sam’s release shooting down his throat forces a spurt of pre-come from his confined cock, and he stays on the floor.

Chris Skelton is not, despite what most people think, stupid. He’s under no illusions as to why Sam’s pretty pink dick is now buried at the back of his throat.

Fantasy and reality collide as Tyler’s hands grip the back of Chris’s head and he fucks the willing mouth being offered.

Knees scraping painfully against the shitty tiled floor of Lost and Found, Chris tries and fails to breathe through his nose, as Sam’s movements become erratic and almost violent before he shudders above him, emptying himself down the throat that’s convulsing around the tip of the cock that’s rapidly softening on his tongue.

Even though Chris _knows_ his mouth isn’t the one Sam’s thinking of, the younger man still sucks and licks for all he’s worth. Draining every drop, enjoying the slightly sour taste of Sam’s come coating his tongue.

He’s being used, and he doesn’t know if he really cares.

This isn’t the first time Sam’s dragged him into a darkened corner with the promise of mind-blowing sex, only to slam his hands on Chris’s shoulders and force him to the ground with a look on his face that says this is nothing to do with love, or lust.

It’s not even like - it’s revenge.

Chris’s cock is painfully erect, begging to be touched, but he won’t cave because Sam _will_ deal with it, in his own sweet time.

One final thrust and a groan so low and feral it hurts Chris’s ears signals Sam’s satiation, and it only takes a minute before he’s being dragged to his feet.

“Hands behind your back.”

Chris does as he’s told, will continue to do as he’s told when the reward for being such a good boy is having Sam’s skilled fingers wrapped around his shaft and tugging roughly, pulling pained moans from the younger man’s lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gene’s shoulders rest heavy against the corrugated plastic partition separating the hallway from CID proper.

Legs crossed at the ankles, stomach turning over and over with every sound of sexual satisfaction emanating from the room opposite, Gene waits.

He stares intently at the door, willing it to open and reveal the two men who will be tucking themselves in; one wiping his chin and blushing like a belisha beacon, the other moving so languidly it’ll make Gene want to beat him into the middle of next week.

Sam Tyler is a complete arsehole.

No, arsehole is too nice of a description.

He’s a fucking bastard and he knows exactly what he’s doing.

Not so long ago it was Sam on his knees in Lost and Found, the tip of Gene’s dick nudging none too gently at his tonsils.

So much for trusting in his instincts.

This man offered something no one else ever had.

Not his wife, not his brother, not his squad.

_”Come on Gene, trust your gut, what’s it telling you?”_

_“That you’ll be the fuckin’ death of me.”_

_“What else?”_

_“That if I don’t feel those lips wrapped round my dick right now, I’m gonna explode.”_

_“Trust your gut, Gene. It’s not gonna let you down. _I_ won’t let you down.”_

The image of Sam’s lips split wide around his cock, with come and spit dribbling down his chin, eyes sparkling as he devoured everything Gene had to offer, haunts and taunts him as he waits for Chris to emerge into the harsh light of the hallway.

Sure enough, one final shout echoes off the walls and Gene stands ready to face the two of them.

Chris  walks out first, as predicted - wiping his chin and flushing red - with Sam following on behind, scrubbing his palm against the thigh of his trousers.

“Gene. Want something?”

“Nothin’ you’ve got to offer.”

“Shame. I seem to remember - “

Chris ducks out the way when Gene launches himself across the hall and lands a teeth rattling punch on the Boss’s jaw.

Wishing the ground would open up and swallow him, Chris tries not to _see_ the look of disappointment on Ray’s face as he pokes his head out into the hallway. “Ray - I - “

“I hope you get yourself checked regular, Skelton, you never know what these Hyde blokes are carryin’. ”


End file.
